Paintings of the Sun
by Writingishardwhy
Summary: Life as a starving artist is not something for the faint of heart, though it can be made easier when one is saved by living statues of winged monsters. (Complete for now.)


January was a bitch.

Sure, to most it was considered a new beginning – a possible change for the better. One could even say there was something relaxing, almost refreshing, about this month that was just after the holiday chaos and the beginning of a new year. No more hectic schedules, no more family get-togethers, or desperate shopping in packed malls––all that was left was the lull of the mundane and routine. It was a time to reflect, take a breath, and find solace in a year gone by that came with great comfort and a renewed hope for the future.

For those that had warm shelter, stable incomes, and friends and family this was simply a given. Most neither knew, nor cared to know the stinging numbness spreading from fingers to toes as the temperatures hit below zero. Most knew nothing of the half-starved stomach or tattered clothing of those they passed on street corners, even after all those resolutions they might've had as the New Year's Ball Dropped. So, the disgruntled teenager trying to sell paintings on a dingy blanket in Central Park during late hours to the fading traffic of tourists after the holiday season was nothing most really understood.

Which is why they would never understand that January was _such a damn bitch_.

It was difficult enough to peddle her art as it was with competition and what-not but add in the freezing temperatures and that most sightseers – her main source of profit– had already left the Big Apple after the New Year celebrations, and it was damn near impossible. The girl, short-haired with olive skin and a tired scowl, turned her attention to the art stand next to hers and called out to its vender.

"Hey, Bennie! I'm heading out! You gonna stay long?!"

Bennie, a bearded and very unkempt young man, gave a lazy shrug in response.

"Nah, I think I'll punch out soon, too! You be careful heading home alright, Lucy!" He called.

"Yeah, yeah I got it." She brushed his concerns off with a wave, as she packed up her things.

"You just worry about your own damn self, alright old man?"

Bennie put his hands up in mock surrender.

"Fine, fine. See you tomorrow, Luz!"

"Yeah, see ya, Ben!" Lucy called out before hauling up her things–a grungy backpack and art bag full of paintings on cardboard–and making her way out of the park.

Lucy made her way out of the park alone, quickly and discreetly counting the day's earnings as she went. It wasn't much by any means; a little over twenty dollars and some change. She gave a tired sigh and pocketed her cash. The money wouldn't do for much, but at least she'd be able to buy herself some food. Honestly, anything would have been wonderful; she was so hungry.

Lucy knew she wouldn't have enough for a place to stay, but between food and shelter, she would definitely choose food. It sucked, and if given the chance she'd ask to crash on someone's couch, but she had just gotten out of her buddy Marcus's place after his girlfriend got pregnant again and couldn't afford to help anymore. The only other person who'd be willing to hold her up would be Bennie, but the poor guy's place was so small he might as well have been living in alleys in a box.

Grumpily, the young woman rubbed her cold arms over her black hoodie and trudged through the snow in search of the nearest restaurant that she could find. A pizza place was on the way, and it was about three bucks for a cheese slice and a coke, which was a goddamn godsend really. Who knows; maybe she'd find an unlocked car or something she could sleep in for the night. Lucy wasn't too hopeful, but hey, it was possible.

Suddenly, a feeling of dread assaulted her senses, and Lucy stopped in her tracks on the sidewalk. Her skin prickled and hair stood on end at the back of her neck. Her stomach twisted in knots, and she could feel eyes watching her every move. She quickly resumed her trek so as to not to seem suspicious, though subtly tried to quicken her pace as she did.

" _¡Hijo de puta!_ " She cursed in Spanish under her breath.

She had let her guard down. She was walking at night in some of the worst parts of this town, and she had let herself just wander around like some kind of idiot. Now, she had God knows who stalking her, and would be lucky if she made it to safety with her life, much less her valuables.

She was such an idiot!

Lucy took a breath.

 _'All right. Nothing to worry about. Just stay calm and try to lose 'em.'_

With this thought in mind, she continued walking, this time quickly changing directions at random to get away from her pursuers. They were getting closer; she could hear footsteps behind her now. Lucy picked up her pace, all the while fighting the urge to look back. She made out at least four long shadows from the neon street signs they passed by– outnumbered. She could fight, and just maybe make it out okay if she was very, stupidly, _ridiculously_ lucky, or she could run; it would mean abandoning her bags full of sketch pads and paints, which would cost her dearly. Art supplies weren't cheap, and it had been difficult to get her hands on the small amount she had.

Decisions, decisions.

The few people on the dirty streets she had passed didn't look to be of any help. A few waiters having a smoke on their break, a few men getting ready to roll out their sleeping bags for the night. It wasn't any of their business, after all. There was no help coming, and it was likely she wouldn't win in a fight if it came to it. She cursed again.

Her choice was made.

Steeling herself with a deep breath and a hard look, with one smooth motion, she dropped her bags and took off. Her stalkers immediately followed; harsh breaths and steps echoing in the streets just behind hers. The frigid air burned her chest, and the frozen puddles on the sidewalk nearly tripped her up and had her cursing more than once, but she kept on at top speed, searching for a way out. She knew these streets; knew them better than her own damn mother. If there was a way out of this she would find it—she had to.

Lucy pumped her legs harder, forcing her body to keep going despite already being tired and hungry. The adrenaline rush helped, but she'd have to lose them soon or else—

 _'Ah! right there!'_

She recognized the alley she was coming to—had made beds against its walls on more than one occasion. It had a fire-escape and, with a high enough jump, she could reach the ladder and lose them through one of the apartment windows. It was risky, she'd technically be breaking and entering if she even made the jump, but once again she didn't have much choice.

"Hey, baby, why ya' runnin'!

"Don't you wanna come play with us?!"

It was now or never. As soon as the chance came, Lucy turned the corner, bent her legs down low, and jumped with a desperate shout. Her actions barely took a second, if that, but— as flakes of snow passed over her lashes, and the air around her rushed about; as her feet left the ground, her body flew, and her hands came closer to the iron bars of the ladder— it was like that one, weightless moment was endless.

Until it wasn't.

In the end, though Lucy managed to reach the cold metal ladder, the ice that had collected on its bars would not allow for a stable grip. The young woman's hands slipped on the bar, and she met the ground quickly and painfully; the jarring impact twisting her ankle, and leaving her shaken and disoriented in the piling snow. By the short time she had composed herself enough to look up from her fall, it was already too late.

"Whoa, whoa! Where you goin' to sweetheart?" One of the men, young and in baggy clothes, said in an almost patronizing tone as he crouched down to her level in the snow.

There were actually five of them, not four. That was just her shit luck.

"That was a nice jump. Yeah, you nice, baby. _Real nice!_ Me and my boys here, we gonna show you how much we appreciate that."

The men laughed loudly, passing around a liquor bottle in a brown paper bag as if they were enjoying some sort of party. Lucy glared them all down as she huddled away from them and they banded around her and continued to catcall and belittle her. The alley was dark, but she could tell by the light of nearby street lamps that these men were bigger than her and even drunk she'd have no chance of fighting them off. Still, even as she broke into a cold sweat and eyes darted back and forth like a cornered animal, there was a determination about her. Luciana Álvarez would go down fighting, no matter how this ended. She waited rigidly for them to make their move, as they came even closer.

And then, without any warning, an incredibly loud, monstrous roar rang out above their heads.

 _"What the hell is that thing?!"_

" _What the fuck?! What the fuck!_ "

 **"Kill it! Kill it! Fucking kill that fucking thing!"**

It felt like quite a while before she could fully comprehend what was happening, but even when her brain finally clicked with reality, Lucy was still at a loss. What she was seeing didn't make sense, yet even still the unreal scene didn't change. There at the entrance of the alley, a winged creature descended down from the sky and landed with a terrifying low growl as it loomed over them on two legs. It looked prehistoric, almost reptilian in nature, with light blue skin and ears like fins.

It had a pot-bellied middle, long talons, unnaturally white glowing eyes, and terrifying pointed, overbite teeth. Its eyes and teeth stole most of her focus, and she barely registered the swinging tale behind it, or the dark loincloth covering it's lower half. The beast gave another monstrous howl and lunged in her and the men's direction, and then her body was frozen from more than just the cold.

There was another roar from behind her, and suddenly she realized the beast wasn't alone. Its companion, growling in the shadows at the back of the alley, had begun throwing around any who came too close, its eyes also glowing dangerously in the night. It was slightly smaller compared to the other, with deep red skin, a much leaner build, and what she could only assume was a _beak_. No, it obviously had teeth from what she could discern in the distance, though the long snout somehow made it more menacing. The sound of screaming, growling, and fighting was all around her, and Lucy curled up in a ball as she hyperventilated in the center of the chaos.

The creatures were tossing the men around like rag dolls into walls, trash bins, and dumpsters all the while the men tried uselessly to either fight them off or run. Lucy was horrified to think that she might be next. Thankfully, after what seemed like far too long, the men were knocked out and the beasts immediately calmed. She lifted her head, eyeing them, and waited tensely for the monsters to attack, fly away; anything really. But all the two did was regroup at the alley's opening, passing her as they did, looking around as if surveying the area for threats, and then gave her what she thought might have been a pensive stare.

"Are you alright?" The beaked red one spoke cautiously after a tense few seconds.

Lucy was shaken by the sudden question. Her mind was barely getting over the adrenaline of nearly dying along with the surrealism of her apparent rescuers. Now, these . . . winged things just come out and talk.

 _' What the fuck? What the fuck!'_

"Y–you . . . you talk. . ." Lucy whispered shakily, eyes wide and barely able to form sentences.

Behind his friend, the big blue one gave a small groan and an eye roll in what she could only describe as complete exasperation. In the back of her mind, she felt a little peeved. The jackass could at least cut her some slack after she got attacked, but whatever. There were more important things to think about right now.

"Miss, are you okay?" Red tried again, a little more urgently.

"I got'em!" called another voice from out of nowhere.

The yell came from behind the monsters, and had she not been looking in their direction, she might have thought it was some stupid kid with as much bad luck as her. However, as Red and Big Blue both turned to the voice, she made out yet another creature entering the alley. Hunchbacked and toddling on two legs into the alley, the beast carrying torn bags spilling over with papers and plastic paint containers was noticeably different from Red and Blue. This one was brown in color and quite a bit smaller than his friends – almost childlike by comparison – and instead of on his back like the other two, his wings connected to his lanky limbs like that of a flying squirrel. In the weak light of the city streets peeking into the alley, the dirty brown imp-like creature looked almost harmless, though with his sharp claws and protruding canines she knew that wasn't true.

Hesitantly, the little creature delicately held out the bags to her while still keeping a fair distance between them, like she might try to bite him or something equally ridiculous.

"MY STUFF!" Lucy yelled out in surprise, as she realized what the little one was offering her.

She tried to get on her feet to take them, but as soon as she did, Lucy gave a surprised yelp and cursed as pain radiated from her twisted ankle. The trio of monsters cringed at the sound.

"Well, that answers that question," Red said sarcastically.

"Shut up, I'm fine!" Lucy snapped out on reflex, not even looking up from her injury.

The three exchanged bewildered looks at her sudden attitude before the little one quietly placed her things close enough for her to reach without much effort, and then turned away to leave. Catching this, Lucy reacted without thought.

"WAIT!"

The three stopped and turned to her again, confused. There was an awkward pause as Lucy sat there, looking at them with an almost panicked expression. She didn't know why she'd even called out, but for some reason, she was glad they'd stopped. They were strange and unbelievable; fascinating even. She wanted to know what they were.

Where did they come from? How was this happening? It was all too surreal, and she needed them to just be there until she found her bearings again and made sure this was all damn real.

"I – what – just – wh-who… are you?"

It wasn't what she'd wanted to ask, if Lucy was being honest she really hadn't known what she wanted to ask, but as long as she got some information, she guessed it was fine for now. Red gave cautious looks to Big Blue and The Little Guy before stepping forward to speak, but stopped short as something under his clawed foot made a crumbling sound in the snow. Both human and beast looked down at the sound, and Red stooped down to take the square piece of cardboard that was under his foot.

"Oh!" Lucy gasped out, recognizing it. "That's mine. I'm an artist – kind of. N-nothing big or anything! It's just… something I do… "

Lucy ringed out her hands as looked warily at the red monster that now seemed mesmerized by her artwork. She knew that piece; ' _A Portrait of First Light_ ," she had called it. It was sappy and stupid, but it was the first thing that came to mind at the time, and she had been so tired of painting the damn thing by then. After waking up before dawn every goddamn morning for weeks just to work on that stupid sunrise in the same damn spot she had to mark down every freakin' time, so she just went with it. Lucy later cursed her own stubbornness, but there was no helping it. Once she set her mind to something there was no going back, even if she hated it.

"You made this?" The Little Guy said in disbelief.

She snapped out of her thoughts at the sound of his voice. The other two had come beside Red to examine the small cardboard piece. They were staring at it so intently, seeming completely taken by the mundane picture of the sunrise just coming over Central Park. It took Lucy a minute, but what she found in their gazes gave her a great and sudden warmth inside her chest. They were admiring her work.

The three looked at it as if the painting were something precious; as if Van Gogh's ' _Starry Night_ ' or Sandro Botticelli's ' _The Birth of Venus'_ were clasped in Red's large claws for them to admire. They were awed by her work, in a way that no one had ever been before, and Lucy could not help feeling great pride and gratefulness at that.

"You–you can keep it if you want." The words came fast, again without permission or thought. "I've got a bunch of other stuff, so you can keep it – as thanks, for… you know."

The three creatures looked up in surprise, looking as if they had no idea how to take what she just said.

"I mean, if you want it," Lucy backtracked, taking their silence as rejection.

She reached for her bag than to find a better piece.

"If you don't want that one, I can–"

She was interrupted by the sound of blazing sirens not far in the distance. Apparently, the sound of monsters going on a rampage is the only thing that caught the attention of New Yorkers––go figure. Hearing the sound, the monsters scrambled towards the alley walls and then, to her never-ending amazement, began to scale the wall with their sharp talons digging into the solid bricks.

"Wait! Wait! Wait up! You didn't answer me! Hey, come on! Come back!" She hobbled on her good foot trying to catch them, but they were already halfway up.

The fantastical creatures that had saved her life only minutes ago quickly reached the top of the building, unfolded their great bat-like wings, and flew high into the sky. She watched, mouth agape, as their flying bodies faded into the dark and out of sight. Vaguely, she noticed her painting was nowhere to be found.

"Hands in the air!" a police officer screamed.

The knocked out men were only just starting to come around with groans of pain, only some just managing to lift their hands for the officers in their sorry states. The cops looked taken aback by the scene; men tossed around and beaten in all directions in that small alley, with a petite, injured girl standing in the middle of it all.

"Ma'am, are you alright? are you hurt?"One of them came up to check on her after a moment.

But Lucy paid them no mind, as she was trying her best to find those great beasts flying above. Trying her best to see them one last time; her saviors.


End file.
